


Want is a Four-Letter Word

by Ravenheart



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Good Omens Fusion, Angel Alec Lightwood, Bookstore Owner Alec Lightwood, Cats, Demon Magnus Bane, Denial of Feelings, Food as a Metaphor for Love, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Inspired by Good Omens, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pining, the violence is very tame tbh
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-07
Updated: 2019-12-09
Packaged: 2020-11-26 11:03:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 20,973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20929160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ravenheart/pseuds/Ravenheart
Summary: He was walking back to his loft, enjoying the evening sights and sounds of the familiar streets, when something stopped him short. Right in front of the cathedral stood a lonely and oddly stiff-looking figure all dressed in white. Glamoured to the world but evident to Magnus’ eye, his beautiful white wings stood out against the setting sun and the first falling leaves. 'An angel,' he thought with a thrill. 'Could be fun.' He hadn't seen one in a while, not that he made a habit of purposefully going after them, of course, but… it seemed fateful, did it not? To so casually bump into one standing near his home. And it was always tempting to ruffle their feathers when Magnus needed a distraction from the inevitability of his own existence.





	1. In the Beginning

Magnus wanted to go home. His home in Brooklyn, of course, he was in no rush to return to hell at the moment. Or, you know, ever. He supposed he couldn't complain, considering they mostly left him alone as long as he got the job done, but still. It was dull and dark and _ boring _. So boring. And the company was... subpar.

He just had to get a little work done, have enough material to embellish his bragging session should anyone from hell come pestering him to report. He wasn't in the mood to tempt anyone into anything, really, except perhaps lunch or a cocktail. _ A cocktail does sound delightful, _ he thought, even if it was barely noon. Well, he'd have to go East, where it was playtime already, and go to a bar or three. He could get his drinks while on the job. After all, the nightlife was always ripe with opportunity. Maybe he'd do a quick visit to a casino, trick a rich man into gambling away half his fortune. It was a bit of a cop-out, he knew, going after someone who was already down the path to perdition, but avarice _ was _ the type of sin that flourished from the occasional nudge and needed little else to take root, so it was a convenient choice. He personally thought pride had much greater appeal, but it took patience and time to truly cultivate a proud soul, and while time he certainly had, patience he sorely lacked. And there was, of course, the little issue of having no real interest in procuring souls for Satan.

*

He was walking back to his loft, enjoying the evening sights and sounds of the familiar streets, when something stopped him short. Right in front of the cathedral stood a lonely and oddly stiff-looking figure all dressed in white. Glamoured to the world but evident to Magnus’ eye, his beautiful white wings stood out against the setting sun and the first falling leaves. _ An angel, _ he thought with a thrill. _ Could be fun. _He hadn't seen one in a while, not that he made a habit of purposefully going after them, of course, but… it seemed fateful, did it not? To so casually bump into one standing near his home. And it was always tempting to ruffle their feathers when Magnus needed a distraction from the inevitability of his own existence.

"Hello," he greeted in a smooth tone, coming to stand beside him and imitating his stance with hands clasped behind his back and eyes locked on the intricate cross that decorated the dome. "Didn't expect to see one of you down here."

"On Earth?" the angel's voice sounded rough, as if his vocal chords were unused to producing much of anything. Unsurprising, really. Angels weren't the most sociable creatures. 

"In Brooklyn," he clarified, then turned to him with a side smile that grew wicked when he noticed the stiffness in his posture had doubled. "Why so tense, pretty boy?" Magnus was really playing it down by only calling him pretty. For an angel, he truly invited sinful thoughts. The height was enough of a win, but those hazel eyes and black hair? Perhaps heaven _ could _ be a place on Earth after all.

"I’m Alec," he said firmly, if not unkindly, and Magnus noted with delight that there was a slight blush coming up his neck.

"Alec? Doesn't sound very angelic to me." He was no authority on the subject, but angels tended to have rather pompous and self-important names. Suited every single one of them, honestly. Not that Magnus could exactly be casting stones when it came to conceited names, but that was another matter entirely.

"It's short for Alexander." He stood a little straighter, squared his shoulders.

"Alexander." He looked him up and down, at his flattering yet perfectly boring suit, his rune-branded neck, his standard issue blade, his… _ bow and quiver_? Magnus filed that away for later. "Can't say I've heard of you."

"I'm… I'm new."

"Ah, I see." And wasn't _ that _ interesting. "Got your first orders? You must be excited." He let his eyes widen with mock cheer, then thought he might as well introduce himself, "I'm Magnus, by the way,"

"You're a _ demon_," he said categorically.

"Very observant, angel." He suppressed an eyeroll. "Did the eyes give it away? Or was it my excellent fashion sense?" He pointed at himself, his unbuttoned burgundy silk shirt and tailored black pants standing out even more next to such a traditional outfit. "No, wait, scratch that. Demons have _ appalling _ taste. I'm just a sinfully lavishing anomaly."

"And humble, too. Shocking.” Before Magnus had time to appreciate the beauty of hearing an angel make a joke, Alexander went on, “I'm not supposed to…" he glanced at him, his eyes stopping on the assortment of necklaces that completed his look, then quickly went back to staring ahead. "..._fraternize _ with you. I have orders."

"Oh, yes, I expect you do. Bless us all with your angelic righteousness, do a few miracles, go back to heaven and hope your wings are strong enough to carry your holier-than-thou attitude all the way back there."

"I…" he trailed off, opened his mouth a few times before just saying, "What?"

"I'm kidding, obviously. We all take the stairs for official business." When Alexander stayed quiet, he prompted. "So? What are your orders? What does the Almighty have in store for you?"

"You expect me to willingly give you intel so you can report back to your office? I might be new, but I'm not a fool." He sounded so stern and genuinely offended that Magnus wanted to laugh.

"Oh, please." He waved him off. "Like I actually care enough to tell them anything."

"You… you don't?" 

"No."

"But you're a demon.” Alexander’s eyes fixed on him as if trying to find the catch by eye contact alone. “You're on hell's side. You have to report back and— and brag about all the" —he lowered his voice and gaze— "all the seducing and— and debauchery—"

"_Debauchery?" _ He snorted. "No, darling. I'm on _ my _ side." His yellow eyes twinkled with amusement, his dark make up making them all the brighter. Funny, that out of all the possible sins, he had seen Magnus and thought _ lust_. Although perhaps Magnus' outfit did invite that assumption. "You might have been raised to be a good little soldier, but me? Well, let's just say I don't play by the book."

"Yes, well," he hesitated, "I'm still not telling you my orders."

"Tell me something else, then."

"What?" A confused glance met Magnus' gaze. Handsome but not very eloquent, apparently. Tragic.

"You don't want to talk business with me." He shrugged. "So tell me something else."

"Why?" He sounded torn between being confused and downright horrified.

"Because eternity is a very long time, darling, and I'm _ bored._" He kept the tone casual, glanced at his black nails, toyed with one of his many rings. He'd never admit that apart from being bored he was also, maybe, perhaps, just the tiniest bit lonely. _ A thought for another time, Magnus_.

Alexander went back to looking ahead, avoiding his attentive eyes as if they could make him catch fire.

"No?" Magnus sighed dramatically. "Well, let me tell you about my latest handiwork, then."

"No!" He blurted out too loudly, then seemed to realize he had lost his composure. He cleared his throat and amended, "Don't, or I'll have to report you."

"Oh, Alexander, what can they possibly do to me? Bore me to death? Besides, I'm sure they have better things to do. After all, they can't go against their beloved orders, and God has never seemed overly invested in me."

"Still. They... They could..." He gave up and glared at him. "Just trust me."

"Trust you? On our first meeting? My, you angels truly think highly of yourselves."

"That's not— I wasn't— I'm only trying to help you!"

"I know." He winked. "I was teasing you." He made an expansive gesture with his hands. "I guess I'll have to keep my craftsmanship to myself, then. Speaking of art, I don't suppose you have many artists up there, do you? Must make things rather dull."

"It's… it's heaven. It's what it's supposed to be."

"Sadly, angel, things are rarely what they're supposed to be." 

Just then, thunder erupted above, and a sudden rain began to pour down on them. Magnus was about to complain about his perfectly styled hair being utterly ruined when Alexander wordlessly shifted closer and covered him with his left wing. He was so thrown by the casual gesture that he had to bite his tongue to keep from saying anything stupid, and he made sure to keep a tight leash on his expression lest he give himself away. Theoretically, he knew angels were meant to be compassionate beings; it was more or less their job description, or at least it had been, once upon a time. But he'd never actually seen one treat a _ demon _ as someone worthy of, well, anything remotely positive. It was… a little disquieting, yet not entirely unpleasant. Not at all. 

"You can stop looking so stiff now." He couldn't exactly _ thank _ Alexander, could he? This was safer. Expected. "I don't bite, you know?" He paused, then felt compelled to add, "Unless you want me to, of course. Although I feel like we should have dinner first, or at least go out for drinks..." 

"I— What— _ Magnus_!" he tripped over his words, his lips scandalized around his name and one of his hands fumbling with his collar.

"What? It could be fun! I know you angels seem unfamiliar with the concept, but there's more to life than following orders."

"There really isn't." 

“Really.” A hint of a smirk. “Where did you get that gorgeous bow of yours?”

“Huh?” He sounded thrown, as it he truly hadn’t expected him to notice the very apparent weapon on him. Or maybe he was caught off guard by the sudden shift in conversation.

“A glamour like that doesn’t work on someone like me, darling,” he explained. “A blade, a stele, _ and _a bow? Sounds like overkill, even for your kind.”

“Blade and stele are given to all of us,” he mumbled, then bit his lip. “I kind of… took the bow.”

“You _ what_?” Magnus was hit with the certainty that he’d been right to follow his gut and approach him. Angels didn't just _ take _ things. Except fun out of Magnus' life, usually.

"I took it,” he repeated, this time trying for firm. “I just…” He unconsciously hunched over, as if he wanted to disappear; combined with his now messy hair and rain-stained face, he looked desolate. “I felt it would be more suitable to fulfill my assignment. It was a matter of strategy.” His formal speech was clearly trying to disguise, or at least rationalize, the fact that he’d been out of line. Not directly disobeyed, perhaps, but flirted with insubordination all the same.

“I see.” Magnus’ eyes roamed, suddenly starving for something he’d never known he could have an appetite for. He had a vision of tousled dark hair against golden sheets and unexplored miles of runed skin under his hands. But the thought was foolish and ephemeral and he crushed it before it could fully take form. Eternity had given him a talent for many things, including self-preservation, and he wasn’t about to throw that away. The angel would indulge him in conversation out of some misguided sense of duty under the unforgiving rain, then they’d go their separate ways, and that would be the end of it.

“I… It wasn’t wrong, right?” He seemed truly worried. Magnus thought that asking a demon for reassurance might have classified as a bigger worry.

“Not at all.” He cleared his throat and his thoughts. What was worse? An angel needing a demon’s comfort, or a demon giving it without second thought? “You’re an angel, Alexander. I’m sure you did the right thing. It's what you do."

“Right.” 

"You did something to make sure you could follow your orders more efficiently," he went on, sensing lingering doubt in his tone. "That's a good thing." 

He nodded once, as if trying to settle the argument in his mind. “Okay.”

Magnus felt a bit bad for him, but he was mostly just intrigued. To find an angel, and a new one at that, who'd risk falling down the path of disobedience to follow his own judgment? 

Silence descended on them, the night barely whispering, and Magnus was reminded of how famished for company he truly was. For all that he was a social butterfly that danced and partied and mingled, he couldn't deny that sometimes he craved something else. Not that Alexander _ was _ that something, of course. _ Talk, leave, the end_. Nothing to read into, nothing to consider. No story to be told.

"Can I ask why you were walking instead of just showing up wherever you were going?" Alexander whispered, as if afraid to break the silence that was only colored by the constant murmur of rain against pavement. It surprised him slightly, to hear the angel restart the conversation rather than let it die in the hopes that Magnus would leave.

"I like walking." He shrugged. "I know you're new to Earth, but you'll find that there are plenty of things to admire and enjoy here. Not many of our kind seem to get that. They see humanity as a burden, a chore, a job to be done." He arched an eyebrow and added, "Speaking of which, shouldn't you be working? Not that I mind the company or the shelter, obviously."

"I _ am _ working."

"Right." Magnus blinked.

"I'm serious."

"You weren't… sent to spy on me, were you?" Magnus asked, not truly believing his own accusation but needing to hear the answer all the same.

"Of course not." He snorted, and wasn't that just the slightest bit unangelic of him. "Although that seems like a pointless question, since I obviously wouldn't tell you if you truly were my assignment."

"I'm hundreds of years old, darling. I'd know if you were lying to me."

"If you say so." He caught the ghost of a smile from the corner of his eye. _ Well. _ Perhaps he wasn’t merely indulging Magnus after all. "I should probably head inside. They're only halfway through mass, and I'd rather not wait in the rain."

"Of course.” He deflated slightly, then chastised himself for it. “I'd offer to join you, but then I'd burst into flames and you'd be left with nothing but my ashes for company," he said cheerfully.

"That's…" Alexander gave him a calculating look. "Not true at all, is it?" He rolled his eyes. "Are these your orders? Torturing new angels who're just trying to do what they're told?"

"Torturing? This is just some light fencing." He bit his lip, couldn't resist adding, "I find that swordfighting can be very stimulating. With the right partner, of course."

"Right." The angel gave him a squinty look, and Magnus had to stop himself from spelling it out for him. "I'm gonna go now." But even as he announced this, he didn't actually move from his place beside Magnus. 

It took him a few seconds to realize that Alexander was waiting for him to move first. It took him even longer to grasp the reasoning behind it. The wing over his head. He’d been offered shelter, however basic, so Alexander probably felt bound to stay for as long as needed. Ridiculous, really. Stupid angel with his stupid moral compass.

"Wouldn't want to keep you." Magnus offered a weak smile and forced himself to retreat from under Alexander's wing, bright and glorious and so different from Magnus' own. "Maybe I'll see you around." 

"Maybe," Alexander said evenly as he rearranged his wings. "Goodbye, Magnus." He nodded, then began to ascend the steps to a place where Magnus would never be welcomed. 

"Goodbye, Alexander." 

And so he resumed his walk, this time under the rain but uncaring of the weather and the state of his hair. Magnus was often skeptical about God's divine plan, but he could recognize a fateful encounter when he saw one. Or, rather, starred in one.


	2. Our Choices Seal our Fate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title taken from the song Broken Crown by Mumford & Sons.
> 
> If you want to say hi, I'm on tumblr (sunoficarus) and twitter (byravenheart).

As lunch dragged on, Alec let his mind wander. He hadn't heard from his superiors in a while, and the only angel he had truly exchanged more than four words with was Lydia, the guardian assigned to the Branwell family. He supposed there was no need for more than a monthly report, but he couldn't help but feel slightly isolated. A month into the job and his longest conversation had been with— _ Don't think about that, _he admonished himself, but it was too late. He found his thoughts straying, remembering his first official day on Earth, and a warm rush of embarrassment ran through him.

Technically speaking, he'd had no need to be standing there outside the church waiting for the Lightwoods to finish mass. He could have gone inside from the beginning, sat beside them quietly and enjoyed the solemn atmosphere around him. He could have even stayed home, since he didn't need to be close to his assignment in order to sense them. But he'd been excited and a bit terrified, and so he'd thought that standing outside was a good compromise for his initiation as a guardian angel. 

Then he'd gone and met a demon, because apparently that was just his luck. Not that the demon had been _ bad_, or, well, he supposed he _ had _ to be bad, but he'd also been kind of nice? It was confusing. He hadn't really been trained for an encounter of that kind. He obviously knew he was meant to keep evil away from his family, but Magnus had seemed to genuinely ignore Alec's orders and had made no real effort to find out, so there had been no threat at all. But he _ had _ to be a threat, didn't he? Alec needed to remind himself that demons dealt in lies and treachery. 

Speaking of which, he couldn't wait for the meal to be over. While he was content to follow orders, lunch was turning out to be a particularly trying affair. He'd been assigned a relatively important family, he knew, for they were wealthy and influential enough to attract aspiring politicians. This, in turn, meant the occasional meal with a snake or two, but he currently felt trapped in a serpentarium rather than a highly exclusive restaurant, and their collective attitudes were tainting the air with an unpleasant smell.

He was seriously debating whether he should cave and wait outside or even keep watch from the comfort of his bookstore when he felt something shift. He turned and did a double take when he saw Magnus standing close to the door. He was glamoured, like Alec himself, and when their eyes met the demon's face brightened.

"A demon and an angel walk into a bar..." He sauntered over to where Alec stood, and he couldn't help but take a small step backwards.

"What are you doing here?" _ And Herondale Palace is not a bar_.

"Nice to see you too, Alexander." He rolled his eyes, dark with makeup but alight with mischief, and Alec saw his necklaces twinkling slightly with the movement. He had yet to meet other demons, but he was certain that Magnus hadn't lied when he'd said he was an anomaly. He was one of those beings that entered a room and claimed it as their own, filling it like water would even the trickiest vessel. There really couldn't be others like him in the universe; there would be no space left to breathe.

"Hi, Magnus," he complied, "what are you doing here?"

"Working, unfortunately. Can't say I'm fond of the smell of this particular brand of corruption, if I be honest."

"I thought it was all the same to you, as long as you got the souls for your boss."

"The end might be the same, my dear, but the means are just as important." He cocked his head, a contemplative pout on his lips. "You're working too, I take it?" But it wasn't a real question, of course. Why else would Alec even be there?

"I am." 

"Well, then." Why was he smiling? "Guess there's not much for us to do after all."

"What do you mean?" 

"Think about it. You're here to inflict your positive influence, and I'm here to do just the opposite. A bit redundant, don't you think? Why should I waste my precious time and effort if you're going to cancel it out? Might as well go home and cross it off the list."

"But that… that would be lying." He didn't bother to correct Magnus' assumption. Better to keep him off his real assignment, make him think he was trying to give those politicians a moral backbone.

"Lying is such a strong word." He waved his hands as if dispelling it from the air. "Think of it as... embellishing the truth." He laced his fingers together, satisfied, and Alec absently noted how much of Magnus’ self seemed to be expressed through gestures; as if words weren’t enough to convey his essence to its fullest.

"Pretty sure it still counts as lying, regardless of what you choose to call it."

"Semantics aside, you know it's a good idea. Why would anyone stay here," he pointed at the room at large, "for a second longer than necessary?"

"No. I mean, yes, it's not my definition of a good time, but it's our _ job. _You can't be seriously suggesting this." He squinted at him, hoping to find his true intentions behind those yellow cat eyes. Magnus held his gaze, apparently unperturbed by the scrutiny. "No. I won't do it."

"_Alexander_," he whined, taking a step closer to him; Alec had never thought he'd live to hear a demon do that. "Can't you see how perfectly this works? You're good. I'm bad. Balance is achieved in the universe. Voilà."

"I highly doubt that's how heaven and hell will see it." 

"They really don't care as long as the job gets done. They have better things to do than to check on the likes of you and me."

"You can go ahead and leave, if you want," he suggested. 

"Well, now I'm just offended." He sighed dramatically. "Sure I can't convince you to leave and have lunch with me instead? There's an Ethiopian place just a few blocks away…" he trailed off casually, as if a demon asking an angel to ditch work in favor of lunch were a common occurrence.

"I'm good," he said, although a part of him rebelled at his own refusal. A part that Alec yet again failed to keep at bay; the one that whispered that eternity seemed awfully tinged with loneliness. And the offer sounded appealing and awfully harmless, but therein lay the danger. Magnus knew his craft well and it showed. Alec had to remember that.

"Very well." There seemed to be genuine disappointment in Magnus’ tone, but he wouldn't be swayed so easily. "May we meet again."

"Or not," Alec replied, but Magnus just winked at him and vanished, apparently deciding to skip work anyway.

*

Alec was seriously starting to consider the possibility that Magnus might be tracking him. He didn't know whether he was being self-important by thinking this, since he was hardly an angel that ranked highly enough to be worth the trouble, but he couldn't really explain it any other way. They’d already ran into each other five times since that first night three months before. Either Magnus was tailing him or fate was bringing them together, and the latter was frankly a lot scarier than the former. What could fate want with a demon and an angel?

"Let me guess. You were in the neighborhood?" Alec asked dryly as Magnus entered his bookstore like a smooth sea of glitter and gold. While he didn’t particularly care for grand entrances, he could still appreciate the panache that the demon appeared to carry in his bones; it seeped through every move and breath, bled into everything he touched.

"Alexander," he greeted with a smile. "I assume you never bothered to check where I live, did you?"

"None of my business, as long as you don't get in the way of my assignment." He put down the book he’d been reading but remained on the other side of the counter.

"You shouldn't be so charming, darling, people will think you're onto something," he teased as he approached. "I've lived in Brooklyn for far longer than you've been down here. It's really not my fault that you decided to buy a bookstore ten blocks away from my loft. I'm only a demon, after all. I can't be expected to resist such temptation." As if to accentuate his point, he draped himself over the desk, leaving lots of exposed skin and little space between them.

"You live on Earth permanently, too?" He sidestepped, accidentally knocking over his marble pencil holder as he moved. He had no time to lament its loss, however, because a soft wave of blue flames enveloped it, bringing it swiftly to stand next to Alec’s book. “Huh.” He blinked. “Thank you.”

Magnus waved him off, as if doing something nice for an angel were no big deal. "Hell doesn't really agree with me," he mock-whispered. "And as long as I keep them happy, they don't care where I go."

"I see."

"You don't stay here by choice?"

"Well…" He hesitated. He wasn't sure how much he could really say without giving himself away. "It's just easier to stay here, considering my orders. And I like it." He shrugged. "Heaven is…"

"Boring?" Magnus supplied.

"Lonely," he said, then wished he hadn't.

"Ah." His face seemed to soften, and he nodded. "That I can understand."

“You can?” He couldn’t help the question. Could demons actually be lonely?

“This may surprise you, but demons aren’t as unfeeling as you angels think.” The bitter edge to his voice wasn’t lost on Alec.

“Sorry.” He cleared his throat and decided to steer the conversation away from what was clearly a touchy subject. “How did you find me, anyway?” He blurted out, wincing internally when he realized it wasn't any safer to go down that road.

“Angel,” he spoke softly, “the sign literally reads AL X. ANDER in golden letters and is underlined by what is clearly an arrow. Give me _ some _ credit.”

“And you just happened to walk by?” He must have sounded more accusing than intended, because Magnus’ entire posture changed.

“Yes.” His eyes narrowed and his lips became one unhappy line. “I'm not following you, if that’s what you’re implying. I _ could _have tracked you, but I didn’t think you’d appreciate the gesture. Clearly, I was right.” 

“Well, you're a _ demon_. You can’t blame me for thinking tha—”

“Oh, I don’t blame _ you_,” he muttered, hurriedly getting off the counter with clear intentions of leaving.

“Magnus, come on.” Surely he didn’t expect Alec to _ trust _him? At least not yet…

“But you see, Alexander. I’ve been recently informed that I’m a demon.” His bitter laugh echoed in the quiet store. “And even demons can tell when they’re not welcomed.” He turned around and began to walk away.

“Wait.” Without thinking, Alec grabbed him by the sleeve. It accomplished the intended purpose of keeping him, but it also meant he now had an angry demon staring daggers at him from up close. As Alec tried to come up with something more substantial to say, he couldn't help but notice how soft the fabric of Magnus' shirt was; admittedly not the most useful thought, yet perhaps it was that softness which compelled him to say, “I’m sorry. Don’t go.” 

“So you can keep on making assumptions about me? I don’t think so.” He snorted, then gave a smile that was all teeth. “Now let me go. I won't ask again." It didn't feel like a bluff; it was a warning, loud and clear.

“I’m sorry.” He slowly loosened his grip, took a step back as he added, "It's just that…” He ran a frustrated hand through his hair. “We keep running into each other. I don’t think it’s a coincidence. It can't be. And if it’s _ not _ a coincidence, then— then you must have something to do with it.”

"You're giving me too much credit," he mumbled, still unhappy but apparently willing to stay.

"Am I?" He shook his head. "I've exchanged more words with you in one day than with all other angels put together since I got here. I've seen you more often than all other angels put together, too."

"Maybe they don't like you." Alec briefly wondered if he should be offended before Magnus went on, "Can't blame them, Alexander. They're terrible judges of character."

"And demons are better?" He raised an eyebrow.

"Absolutely not." He gave a half-smile, and Alec almost forgot why they'd been arguing. "But I'm an exception."

"You say that a lot."

"Only because it's true."

"A demon that tells the truth?"

"Only to you." He winked playfully.

"Sounds like you're trying to avoid answering my question."

"Which was?"

"Why do we keep running into each other?"

"I don't know!" He raised his arms, frustrated all over again. "You're overthinking this. We live in the same area _ and _ have overlapping lines of work. I'd say it's a miracle we don't run into each other more often." 

"Right," he said, but he wasn't fully convinced. There had to be more than that. Magnus _ had _ to be hiding something. He was a demon, no matter how easygoing and pleasant, so there had to be a hidden agenda. Or so Alec kept telling himself, because the alternative was… something he wasn’t even sure how to comprehend.

"Look. If you want me gone for good, just say the word and I won't bother you again. I may not have been actively seeking you out, but I can definitely make sure we never cross paths for the rest of our existence," he spoke casually, lightly, and it almost looked like he didn't care either way. Yet something told Alec that wasn't quite true.

"I…" He hesitated. Maybe Magnus was lonely too. Maybe he was just bored, like he'd said when they'd first met. Misgivings aside, maybe Alec enjoyed his company too much to tell him to go, even if they barely knew each other. Maybe...

"Right." He deflated, clearly taking his silence for an answer. "Guess this is goodb—"

"Do you want to go out for coffee?" Alec blurted out before he had time to process his own words. "Not today, but, um, Saturday?" The Lightwoods always went to the same coffee shop on Saturday afternoons. He could test the waters then, see if Magnus was genuine about their… acquaintanceship. Either that or he’d give himself away and reveal his true intentions towards his family, and then Alec could leave him and never look back. 

Right.

"O-kay," Magnus dragged the word, blinking twice. "It's not on consecrated ground, is it?" he joked, although there was a light frown on his face, like he couldn’t quite wrap his mind around Alec’s offer.

"I'm sure you'll live," Alec found himself teasing back, then grabbed a notepad to write down the address while willing his hands not to shake. What, exactly, had he just done?

*****

Alec had been quietly sitting by himself in one of the best coffee shops in Brooklyn when he saw a black cat perched on the windowsill, his yellow eyes standing out among the dark. He was reminded of Magnus, and he wondered if he'd actually show. There were still twenty minutes left before the actual time they'd arranged to meet, yet Alec couldn't help but fear he'd changed his mind and decided he wasn't worth his time. He wasn't even sure if Magnus ditching him would count as a good thing or a bad thing, considering the potential dangers of enjoying a demon's company.

Shaking his head to clear it of pointless thoughts, he focused his gaze on what was arguably the best table of all. Across the room, bathed by warm industrial light, sat the Lightwoods. Little Isabelle was talking animatedly to her father, who was content to nod along and let her explain why Wonder Woman was clearly the best superhero. Alec thought he should perhaps persuade Robert to get her a whip for her birthday if her interest hadn’t faded by then.

He knew that many would brush off his job as irrelevant in the grand scheme of things, but it comforted him to know that they all contributed to the great plan in one way or another. And, if truth be told, he liked his assignment. Being a guardian angel gave him an excuse to frequent Earth a lot more often than most of his fellow angels, and he was grateful for that. He enjoyed living among the mundanes, and he found comfort in watching the progress his assigned humans made. The Lightwood family was complex, as most humans were, and Alec was fascinated by them. He sometimes wondered who'd been their previous angel and why they were no longer guarding them, but he supposed it wasn't for him to know. What mattered was that they were his to protect now.

A waiter came by his table to offer him a refill, which he gladly accepted. Just as he was turning away, they were both drawn by a smooth voice Alec identified at once.

"Hello, darling. I'll have the usual." Magnus directed a winning smile in the waiter's direction, who nodded and gave a flustered smile in return, and then gracefully sat down across from Alec. He was wearing a blue silk shirt with intricate golden details, and Alec almost felt like he should have tried to dress up a little. He looked foolish next to him, his white shirt drab in comparison. "Fancy meeting you here, angel."

"Magnus," he blinked, slightly thrown by the early appearance. He'd have expected Magnus to be the casually late type.

"Why do you look so surprised?" He sounded amused. "You were the one who invited me here."

"It's still early."

"I could tell you the same thing."

"Right," he conceded, head tilting to the left. "I'd been thinking about you, anyway," he said earnestly, eyes drifting towards the cat that was now gone. He frowned, then realized what he'd just said and felt his face come alive with heat. "I— I mean—"

"Well, you sure know how to make a demon feel special." His eyes were bright with mirth. "I assume you saw the cat outside?" Alec nodded, and Magnus went on, "It was me, darling. One of my many talents, you see."

"Oh. That makes sense. With your— your—" He waved vaguely at Magnus' face.

"It's one of my favorite forms." A soft smile touched his lips, although he averted his eyes at Alec's comment. "It's quite fun. Except when I get chased by dogs. Then it gets significantly less fun. But I did scare a Great Dane last week. The poor thing just ran to hide behind its owner."

"Was that… part of your assignment?" He really couldn't see how.

"Of course not. I just felt like it." He shrugged. "Are that coffee and muffin part of your assignment?" He cocked an eyebrow, and Alec felt like he'd been caught, could feel his cheeks reddening again. "I'm not judging you. In fact, I should congratulate you. Look at you, indulging in some of Earth's finest."

"I— They never really said I couldn't, so I thought…"

"And you thought right. Relax, you're not going to fall because you ate a _ muffin_. Although," he leaned forward and whispered, "you might want to stay away from apples." He winked and gave a pleased smile. "You know why nobody warned you against food? Because they think it's beneath them. In their minds, there's no reason why an angelic being would be interested in even trying this." He cleared his throat and mimicked an elderly voice, "_My body is a temple that should be sullied by neither food nor fun. Ever._"

Before he could think of a reply, the waiter returned with Magnus' order. Alec sensed him before he actually saw him, and what he picked up was certainly odd. That this human was feeling… _ that way _ about the demon sitting across from him.

"Can one take human lovers?" Alec asked, curious, and watched with slight surprise as Magnus choked on his drink.

"_Alexander_." He sounded scandalized, and Alec immediately realized his mistake.

"I'm not asking for myself. Obviously. I— I wouldn't." He flushed, taking a hurried sip of his coffee and avoiding his eye. "I just thought… I know demons can be, um, involved with humans, physically, but I didn't know it was possible for a demon and a human to be… in a relationship. A romantic one, I mean."

"I… guess?" He paused for a moment, ran absent fingers over his lips. "I doubt it's a very common occurrence, though. We're really not beings that are meant to awaken love in anybody, angel." He gave a self-deprecating laugh that didn't sit well with Alec, which was strange because he actually thought him to be right. Surely nobody in their right mind would ever love a demon of their own volition —although he'd thought hellspawn would have disagreed. "May I ask what brought this on?" He scrunched his nose, puzzled. 

"Well, the waiter, he feels…" he trailed off, not sure exactly how to word it. It wasn't love, not yet, but the feeling that came before it, perhaps. The question, the promise, the whatif.

"_Excuse me_?" His eyes were wide and shocked.

"Oh! You didn't know?" But the waiter was practically broadcasting it. How could Magnus have missed it? "I can sense it. It's… kind of strong. Not settled, but there's potential there."

"No, no, that can't be right. You must have mistaken it with lust. We might have shared a bed once or twice a few months ago."

"It wasn't that." He normally had a hard time sensing lust, so that definitely wasn't it. Or, in any case, it wasn't all there was.

"You're wrong," he shook his head, sounding uncharacteristically affected.

"Why is it so hard to believe?" It was hard for an _ angel _ to picture it, but surely demons thought highly enough of themselves to find human love not only possible but a fitting form of worship.

"Because," he said slowly, as if Alec were a child, "I'm a demon."

"You just said demons could take human lovers." And surely Magnus was far from the worst choice, if a human had to pick a demon to fall for? Then again, Alec didn't know any others, so perhaps his opinion wasn't all that valid.

"No. I said I didn't know, and that it was unlikely. We're not… people aren't meant to fall in _ love _ with us, just in lust. That's the deal."

"So you made a deal with him?"

"Of course not. It was just an expression." He actually seemed offended at the implication. But wasn't that what he did every day?

"I see." Alec frowned. He'd never thought of demons as beings who could want or need love, but now he wondered. _ Demons aren’t as unfeeling as you angels think_, Magnus had said. So maybe… "Could you reciprocate?"

"Yes." He ran a hand over his face. "Demons have the capacity to love. They just… tend to love things angels disapprove of, so they don't consider it love but sin. I doubt you'd be able to sense it the same way you seem to detect it in humans."

"Have you ever been in love, then?"

"Shooting all your arrows at once, I see." Magnus gulped down his latte and grimaced. "I need a shot of tequila, or twenty, before we even begin to have that conversation."

"I'll take that as a yes," he said in a small voice, and took a bite from his forgotten muffin.

"I'm really not in the mood to talk about it now. Or ever." His words were playful but his eyes serious, and his attention shifted rather pointedly from Alec to his pastry.

"Okay." He nodded. It was clearly a topic best left alone, so he wouldn't push it. He racked his brain for something else to talk about, then said, "So, your cat form. Anything to do with witches?"

"You could say that," he said evenly.

"So you promote black magic." Alec had to admit that he wasn't the best at engaging in harmless conversation. But what could they safely talk about? They were natural enemies.

That reminded him of his original purpose for the meeting. So far, Magnus hadn't shown any signs of having noticed the Lightwoods, hadn't even looked in their direction once. Alec wanted to test him, make sure once and for all that the demon wasn't after his family, but he didn't know how to be casual about it.

"—agic isn't inherently good or bad. It just is. The user determines what to do with said magic."

"Right," he agreed halfheartedly, realizing he should have been paying attention to their conversation. "Um, but you must try to convince them to sin, right? White magic wouldn't accomplish that."

"Depends on who you ask, really. A catholic priest performs a miracle and that magic is pure and worthy of praise and sainthood. An old lady cures your boils and she's burned at the stake. Humans judge in peculiar ways, and I don't pretend to understand heaven and hell's judgment either. I merely leave the seeds in the garden, Alexander. It's them who choose how to grow them. It's up to them to decide what that tree is going to be." He took a bite from his pastry and Alec was momentarily distracted by the chocolate that stained his lips.

"I guess," he acquiesced, then had to point out, "You've got some…" He gestured vaguely at Magnus' face, resisting the odd urge to take care of it himself.

"Oh," Magnus tentatively touched his lip with his index, then swiped his tongue over the chocolate. "Sorry. Cornetti can get a bit messy." He used a napkin too, although it was unnecessary at that point.

"Wouldn't know," he mumbled. "S'it good?"

"Very," he cut a piece and extended it to Alec. "Here. Try it," he offered.

"I…" Accepting food from the hand of a demon? 

As if reading his mind, he said, "It's only chocolate, Alexander." An almost tender smile played on his lips. "No apples." 

"Right." He forced himself to smile back, forced himself to realize that he was overthinking it. He took the fork gently from Magnus' hand and tried the proffered food. Magnus looked at him oddly, but Alec ignored him in favor of the newfound discovery that was chocolate.

"That good?" he teased.

He nodded, licked his lips before saying, "So that's why people like chocolate so much." By people he actually meant Isabelle, since his knowledge of human eating habits came mostly from the Lightwoods. Perhaps he should try to fix that.

"You'd never even had chocolate before?" He sounded outraged. "Well, guess I'll have to take you to my favorite café next time. Try a little bit of everything. We really can't have you living down here if you're not having the full experience." 

_ Next time, _Alec's mind echoed. Then he realized that if Magnus was suggesting he pick the place for their next encounter, a place other than the one his assignment frequented, surely the chances of him being after the Lightwoods weren't all that high —or was that wishful thinking? Alec had given him a good opportunity to act, or at least show the slightest bit of interest in them, but he'd gotten nothing that could be considered even remotely suspicious. Perhaps Magnus' interests lay elsewhere, then, even if that didn't make a lot of sense to Alec yet. But the thing was… Alec really wanted to trust him. There was something in his gut that told him it was right, even if logic told him to stay away. Regardless of the battle brewing in his brain, he knew himself well enough to admit that he wasn't going to turn down the invitation. 

_ Don't let me be wrong, _he prayed.


	3. Forsaken

Not for the first time, Alec willed someone to come through the door and break the stillness that seemed to have engulfed him. It had been hours since his last client, and weeks since he'd last seen Magnus. He was, quite frankly, bored out of his mind.

But his will bore no fruits. 

The bookstore remained mockingly empty, the shelves perfectly organized, and Alec frustratingly alone. He wasn't even in the mood to read or go for a walk, and he knew the Lightwoods were perfectly safe at the moment. With a sigh, he turned the sign to CLOSED and dragged himself to his apartment on the first floor, foregoing food in favor of sleep.

Eternity _ was_, apparently, a very long time.

*

The next day, his hopes were crushed before they’d even had a chance to materialize. It was pouring so heavily that he knew no soul would even spare a glance at the bookstore, if anyone even walked by at all; it was the sort of storm only the reckless would dare brave, and certainly not in search of books. 

Still, he got up. Checked on the Lightwoods. Manned the store. And, finally, almost bitterly, he went back up to his apartment. 

He couldn’t afford to let his thoughts brew, so he read himself to sleep, focusing on every little detail.

He told himself it worked. 

*

On the third day, just as he was beginning to consider leaving the store and going for a run despite the still wet streets, the door was opened swiftly. Alec almost sighed in relief when he saw Lydia but managed to keep a straight face. While she wasn’t warm or prone to social visits, he had to admit that she was probably the only angel who almost treated him like a person and not merely a soldier. 

"Lightwood," she greeted him with a nod, her blond hair in a tight ponytail that didn’t move in the slightest. 

"Branwell," he nodded back, silently annoyed at the habit guardians had of calling each other by their family name. Alec loved the Lightwoods, but it made him feel insignificant to have his name overlooked. Why bother giving them names at all if nobody was going to use them? "Any news?" he asked, although there was no need. She wouldn't have shown up at his bookstore if there was nothing to say. That wasn't how Heaven operated.

"I heard through the grapevine that the Herondale guardian has been killed." There was no inflection in her tone; she might as well have been talking about the weather. Alec would have been fooled by her aloofness if not for her clenched fist and overly blank expression. The look of someone who'd been trained to show nothing at all; he’d always felt he’d never quite mastered their stoicness, always thought he gave too much away. 

"Killed by whom?" 

"Nobody knows." She shook her head. "They were one of the oldest in our ranks. I never met them, but it must have been something terrible to end them and most of their family."

"Most?" 

"A boy survived." She allowed herself a softer tone. "He'll be given a temporary guardian until they decide how to proceed."

"But where will he go?"

"I honestly don't know, but I assume they won't hold back on their miracles for this one."

"Right. Important family," he mumbled. "Anything else?"

"Yes." She bit her lip. "The Penhallows were also targeted, but something went wrong and another angel died. It wasn't a guardian. Don't know the rank or name."

"The Penhallows," he repeated, this time in horror. They were close enough to the Lightwoods to make the news troubling; his family could be in danger too.

"There seems to be no pattern so far, so the Lightwoods might not be a target, but I felt you should know anyway."

"Thank you, Lydia," he slipped, but decided not to backtrack.

"You're welcome," she answered, her eyes slightly wide with surprise yet not disapproval. "I'll keep you updated." She gave the briefest hint of a smile, then vanished into thin air.

Well, that was one way to end boredom.

*

Alec wasn't sulking in the middle of mass. He was an angel of the Lord, a gifted guardian that had been assigned an honorable task, a— 

Beings like him didn't sulk, especially when they had important matters to worry about. Life or death matters. And certainly not over feeble reasons such as being ignored. Or, well, not ignored, but… whatever it was that Magnus was doing to him.

Why tell Alec they'd get coffee again soon if he was just going to disappear? It had been over three months, an entire season gone by, and they hadn't seen each other ever since. He could sense that Magnus wasn't in Brooklyn anymore, although he wasn't sure why he could now pick up on his location without really trying—almost as easily as he did the Lightwoods. He could even perceive that Magnus was alive and well, which was both reassuring and infuriating. 

Perhaps that had been the plan all along. Get an angel to trust him, then ditch him and laugh about how gullible and easily fooled his kind were. A ticket to cheap entertainment. But that would have been cruel, and Magnus… he didn't look cruel. He didn't _feel_ cruel. Yet what did Alec really know? Nothing, apparently. Nothing at a—

"Isabelle, stay still," Maryse's hiss cut into his thoughts, and his own problems were all but buried for the time being; he’d have plenty of time to spare later. He couldn't help but feel a little bad for Izzy—she didn't enjoy regular mass, so how could they expect her to even try to follow it when it was in Latin? She’d barely started learning it a few months before.

"I want to go home," she protested, and he felt tempted to grant her wish but knew he shouldn’t. Well, perhaps he could at least find some middle ground...

"It'll be over soon," Robert whispered. Alec lifted the hem of his grey sweater, swiftly activated the required rune with his stele, and placed a persuasive hand on his shoulder. A moment later, he relented, "You can wait outside, in the park across the street."

Maryse pursed her lips but didn't object, and Robert handed over his cellphone to Isabelle as he whispered "be safe," and placed a kiss on her forehead. She nodded and stood up as quietly as she could, and Alec followed suit. He wasn't meant to play favorites, would probably be reprimanded if caught, but he just couldn't help it.

Once they were outside and had safely crossed the street, Alec sat on a low wooden bench under a willow. It allowed him to look in Isabelle's direction while still having the church in his line of vision. He had to admit that he'd have chosen the park over mass, too, if he'd been in her shoes. The last breaths of winter were melting away, and spring could already be smelled in the air. He hadn't experienced this season yet, but he'd read about it and was honestly excited to observe the changes around him. 

He sighed contentedly as his eyes trailed after Isabelle, who was currently talking to a girl her age and petting a very excited golden retriever. He let himself relax, allowed his mind to pick up on the happiness that surrounded him, focused on all the subtle scents and sounds dancing and mingling.

He had almost forgotten why he'd been in such a sour mood when he sensed, sharp and with no room for doubt, a demonic presence nearby. He stood up at once, let his wings take him upwards so he’d get a good view of the whole park.

It didn’t take long to spot the creature lurking behind the bushes. Although it wasn’t close enough to Isabelle for him to be overly worried, it still sent an unpleasant feeling down his spine. With the memory of Lydia’s visit suddenly fresh in his mind, he wasted no time; bow in hand, he aimed an arrow and let go. As soon as it left his fingers, he knew it had found its target. He shot two more, if only to be safe rather than sorry, and watched with satisfaction as the demon burst and disappeared.

He circled the perimeter for a while, unwilling to land before making sure there was nothing else to worry about. Eventually, however, he had to force himself to stop; there was clearly no more demonic activity, couldn’t sense even the faintest trace of it, and Isabelle was safe and sound. 

He landed next to her, an unexpected need to be by her side gnawing at him. She was none the wiser, of course, now happily sitting next to a different girl, who was showing her a drawing of a lake.

He made himself sit down a few feet away from her, told himself there was no reason why this should be connected to Lydia's warning. It had been a lone demon, and not a very powerful one, so surely he was reading too much into it.

Still, he worried. He'd have to be more vigilant from now on.

He settled once more, trying to conjure the pleasant feeling he'd experienced before the demon had appeared, but it was no use. Nothing had really changed around him, those humans blissfully unaware of the danger they'd been in, but now Alec felt antsy in a way he couldn't shake. He wished he could talk to someone about it but knew other angels weren't meant to be bothered over such insignificant problems. That's what monthly reports were for. 

He shook his head, wondering if he should reach out to Lydia regardless, when he heard soft meowing from his left. He turned slightly and saw a beautiful black cat with bright yellow eyes. He had sat right beside Alec, his tail shifting the slightest bit this way and that.

"Magnus?" He asked, his voice way more eager than he would have liked. "What are you doing here?" _ How did you know? _

The cat meowed, but didn't seem any more forthcoming than that.

"Oh. You're… you're not..." Of course it wasn't Magnus. He would have felt a shift of some sort if it had been. Stupid. "You're just a cat," he said, disappointed.

The cat looked at him, blinked once, then let its tail brush against Alec's left hand.

"A nice cat," he amended. He lifted a tentative hand and scratched behind its ear. "Probably safer company, too," he mumbled. The cat purred, and Alec decided to take it as agreement.

What he didn’t know, however, was that he’d go to sleep that night while a former stray gladly took over his apartment, and he’d be too charmed to keep it from happening. 

Not that there was anything to read into that, of course.

*

"Hello, darling," Magnus appeared so suddenly that Alec almost dropped the flower vase he'd been about to put on his desk. 

Once he got over the initial shock, however, he schooled his features and took his time to rearrange the lilies before he said evenly, "Magnus."

"You always sound so delighted to see me. Really warms the heart," he jested, although there was a slight undercurrent of hesitation. "Bad time?"

"Not really." Why was he acting this way? He'd waited nearly four months for Magnus to show and now that he was finally in front of him… "How are you?" he tried to amend, but couldn't help but add, "It's been a while."

"Hope you had a better time than I did," he complained, draping himself on the counter like he'd done so many months before. Alec distantly noted that he wasn't wearing any necklaces, the plunging neckline of his emerald velvet shirt exposing nothing but tanned skin. "I _ hate _ long assignments. Not that I haven’t had much longer ones, but this one felt particularly endless. And I had to tempt people into _ sloth_. Of all sins, why sloth? Why me?" He whined, then sighed and looked at him. "I missed your handsome face, angel. Had fun without me?"

"Actually, one of our ranks is being systematically killed, so no. Not that much fun." 

"What?" He jumped slightly, and Alec felt himself relax. There was genuine shock there. He hadn't wanted to even contemplate the possibility, but Magnus _ had _ disappeared around the time the attacks had started, so the thought had crossed his mind. But no, it was clear that Magnus hadn't known. "Don't know if I'm allowed to ask but… is it your order?"

"Yes."

"_ Alexander," _he got off the counter in one swift motion, circled it to stop right in front of Alec. "And you let me whine about sloth?!"

"Well, you did look pretty annoyed. Thought I'd let you get that out of the way before I mentioned murder. Seemed the polite thing to do," he joked, and he was surprised by how naturally it came to him when Magnus was around.

"While I'd normally delight at your use of sarcasm, I'm inclined to disregard it in favor of your _ potential death_."

"I'm not going to _ die, _Magnus." He crossed his arms, couldn't help but roll his eyes at the overreaction.

"I'm sure those dead angels thought the same thing before they, you know, _ended up_ _dead._"

"I'm not worried about myself," he clarified. "As long as my assignment is safe, I'm fine." 

"As long as…" his eyes widened before going dark and clouded. "You stupid, selfless idiot," he hissed. "You're not indestructible!"

"But I'm replaceable," he noted, because it was true. All guardians knew that from day one.

"Now you listen to me," he spoke, his voice full of fire as he approached and cornered him against a shelf. "You are _ not _disposable, you hear me?"

"It's okay," he reassured him, "I'm not upset about it or anything. It's just the way things are. We do our duty, we serve, and we die protecting what is assigned to us." 

"You… you really believe that," he murmured, more to himself than to Alec, and he was surprised at the hurt look on Magnus' face.

"Of course I do. It's basic training. I'm a protector. That's what I was created for." He frowned, unsure of how to deal with what he saw. What was he even hurt over?

"And who—?" Magnus pursed his lips, turned away before asking, "who protects you?"

Alec didn't know what to answer to that, so he just stayed quiet. Magnus apparently hadn't expected a response, because he dropped the subject altogether.

"This visit isn't turning out the way I had planned." He chuckled, shaking himself as if to get rid of their interaction. 

"And what had you planned?"

"I don't know." He turned around as he threw his arms in the air. "Something like _ 'Hello, Alexander. Saved many puppies in my absence? _ ' and then you'd go," he imitated Alec's tone and soldier stance as he went on, "_you cannot expect me to freely give you intel, Magnus, I'm not a fool. But, if you must know, two puppies and three children_." 

Alec laughed despite himself. "It was a cat, actually." 

His golden eyes widened in delight, and Alec realized just how much he'd actually missed this. Missed _ him._ "You saved a _ kitten_?"

"Yes." Did taking him home count as saving?

"Did you keep it?"

"Yes."

"What is this, twenty questions?! I demand to see it."

"He must be here somewhere," he mumbled, then called out, "Church?"

"You named a cat _ Church_?" Magnus asked skeptically.

"I found him in front of St. James," he said defensively. "It was fitting."

"Well, you found me there too, but I don't hear you calling my body a house of worship, even though it clearly is."

"I—" Alec's cheeks were alive with heat, his mind going absolutely blank. What was he supposed to say to that? Only half-conscious of his words, he blurted out, "Do you want me to?"

Magnus' eyes widened almost comically, clearly caught off guard. Good. At least Alec wasn't the only one out of his depth here. "Well, if you ever feel so inclined, I won't stop you." He heard a roundabout _yes _in that answer and nearly regretted asking. 

Eager to leave this territory behind, Alec craned his neck and finally spotted Church sunbathing by the window only a few feet away. "There he is," he pointed out, a soft half-smile immediately blooming. 

"An angel with a black cat?" He sauntered over and gracefully sat down next to it, seemingly on board with ignoring their previous conversation. "I'd joke about you being a rebel but I'm afraid you'd take it seriously and dump this little guy."

"I wouldn't," he argued, offended at the suggestion.

"How long have you had him for?" he asked, amused at Alec's indignation.

"A week."

"Someone bonds fast," he whispered to the cat, who in turn blinked lazily at Magnus, then proceeded to use his lap as a pillow. The purring that followed softened the demon’s face, made his eyes somehow more gold than fire, and Alec was momentarily thrown by how beautiful he was. A part of him had noticed it from the beginning, of course, but bathed by the warm sunlight and smiling down at his cat, Magnus suddenly stood out even more. He wasn't sure if that made Magnus a contradiction or a prime example of his kind.

“Did you just win me over?" Magnus asked the cat. "I bet you do this to all the demons you meet.”

They were quiet for a while after that, Magnus silently fawning over Church and Alec content looking at them. _ Four months. _

“You didn’t tell me you’d be gone for so long,” Alec eventually blurted out, apparently incapable of not addressing the issue that had been bothering him.

“I…” Magnus looked up, confusion clear on his face. “Excuse me?”

“You… It’s been four months,” he stated.

“And you wanted me to, what? Leave you a note?” He stared at him. “Why would you even care?”

“I don’t. I don’t care,” he denied, color high on his cheeks. “It was just… odd. Not seeing you.”

“Are you…” Magnus cocked his head, eyes narrowing slightly as he said, "implying that you missed me?”

“No. Of course not.” He scoffed, nerves making him rude. “That would be stupid."

"Stupid," he echoed in what seemed like agreement. 

"But four months _ is _a long time.”

“For humans, sure. Not for us," he pointed out.

"Well, I guess it feels different for me," he mumbled, feeling uncomfortable all of a sudden. So Magnus hadn't even thought four months was a long time to be apart from each other?

"You're young, Alec," Magnus reassured him, "we have different concepts of time."

"I guess," he conceded.

"Although I must say you managed to replace me pretty quickly," he nodded pointedly at the cat.

"He followed me home." He frowned. "I couldn't just leave him out there."

"Of course you couldn't." He grinned. "Could have been worse. You could have picked another demon off the street and forgotten all about me."

"You're not that easy to forget, Magnus." The demon looked up sharply at that, eyes locked on his like magnets, and Alec felt, rattling inside his ribcage, the weight of the words he’d so casually thrown around. “I— I mean—”

“Well, it’s been delightful to see you and your cat,” he cut him off as he sprung to his feet and turned away from Alec completely, his back lined with tension, “but I should get out of your hair now. You probably have enough on your plate, and you know there’s no rest for the wicked.” When he finally looked at him, Magnus’ face was bright and cheerful and absolutely fake.

“Don’t," he snapped, surprising himself in the process. “Don’t do that.”

“Do what?” His smile wilted slightly.

“Don’t—” But he didn’t really know either. Or did he? He hesitated for a moment, deciding it was best to pretend he didn't regret his own honesty. "I haven't seen you in four months. You're going to sit down and have coffee with me." He hoped his voice didn't waver.

Magnus' face did something impossible to interpret, the air shifting and crackling around them. He cleared his throat and asked, "Bagels?" 

"I've never tried those."

"Well, then," blue sparks danced around his right hand. "Let me tempt you—," he cut himself off, visibly wincing at his own word choice.

"Sounds good," Alec replied, determined to get past the awkwardness and ignore the dangers in that word.

Magnus smiled then, small but genuine, and proceeded to fill Alec's desk with more food than they could hope to eat. As they sat down in two miracled chairs, Alec tried to rein in his blooming feeling of happiness, lest he scare Magnus away. But then he let his senses focus and felt an unmistakable tinge of reciprocity. 

It was worth those four months.


	4. Hell-Bent

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you all for your comments/kudos/etc. i'll answer soon, i promise. <3

Magnus didn't think he knew enough languages to fully express how much he hated dishonorable clients, and his knowledge wasn't exactly something to scoff at. No matter how high his rates were, he often found that it wasn't worth the trouble or the unpleasantness. He just wanted to be done with the whole thing and go back to the loft, maybe even drop by the bookstore before dinner.

He glared at his summoners from his position in the middle of the pentagram, the circle perfectly drawn and frustratingly unbreakable. 

"It's very simple. Give us what we ask for or die," the apparent leader threatened, his face only half-visible in the gloomy candle-lit basement. Zero points for originality. Honestly, if they were going to try to kill him, then they should at least have the decency to be entertaining about it, and consider calling an interior designer. He’d never forgive himself if he died in a place like this.

"I already told you," he snapped, "no payment, no deal. So unless you're each willing to part with your most valuable belonging, I must insist that you stop wasting both our times." Technically speaking, the warlocks were wasting their time either way, but Magnus had given up trying to reason with them. If they wanted that stupid cup so badly, then he’d make sure they got one. Forgery wasn’t foreign to him; merely an old friend he visited only when pressed.

"You'll do as we say," spoke the man to Magnus' left, "because you're bound to that pentagram, and there's nothing you can do about it," he taunted, apparently needing Magnus to know that he’d done his homework and knew how a pentagram worked. Bravo, Chad. Really impressive.

"Do you really want to try me?" he inflected as much fire into his voice as possible. "I'd question your intelligence, but it's too easy to actually be any fun."

"One to five. We have weapons, and you're a prisoner." He arched a disdainful eyebrow. "Think we'll take our chances." And now he truly felt like obliterating that cocky grin in one blast.

But for all that he wanted to play off the encounter as a mere bump in the road, things were actually looking a bit sour for Magnus. He didn't let the panic settle, but it was certainly lurking around the edges of his mind. Truth be told, most people were all bark, and only a very selected handful had weapons that did any lasting damage on him. He was never eager to test his theory or push his luck, however, as demons usually had the short end of the stick when it came to cosmic favors. 

Under normal circumstances, he would've forced the pentagram open through sheer force of will, but this one seemed to be significantly stronger than average. The intricate details, the coloring, even the posture of the summoners screamed power. They might have been dishonorable and unrefined, but they were rather good at it. 

He’d apparently been quiet for too long, because he felt something change in the air when the only woman in the group spoke for the first time; everyone's gaze was immediately drawn to her. _ So perhaps she is the leader, _Magnus thought. Not that it mattered. He wanted them all equally dead.

"Listen, catboy," she said it so casually that he couldn't help but bristle. "Either you give us the cup, or we give you a holy shower." She shook the flask in her right hand. "Heard cats aren't good with water," she sneered, and Magnus rolled his eyes; perhaps death was preferable to having to listen to these people. Then the words actually registered, and he knew that he was either very lucky or pretty much dead.

Why? Well, because the thing about holy water was this: it was one of the deadliest weapons one could have against a demon, but it was also one of the hardest to procure if you were after quality. Oh, of course it was easy to find cheap holy water blessed by your local priest who had more love for the bottle than faith in the Almighty, but if you were looking for the real deal? The thing that made angels sigh and demons melt? Now that was as elusive as God herself. Well, almost, anyway. 

So either she had something that wouldn’t even tickle, or she had potential death in a flask. Unfortunately, based on the quality of the pentagram alone, Magnus was inclined to believe that no morally questionable priests had been involved in the making of said water. He was screwed. 

As if reading his mind, the woman laughed and uncapped the flask. “Let me give you a sample,” she stage-whispered, then swiftly threw half the contents of the bottle in his direction. He almost heard angels gasping in the background at the woeful waste.

Magnus, bless —curse?— his reflexes, actually managed to dodge most of it. What did hit him, however, left no room for doubt. His right arm immediately hissed and sizzled and burned so badly that for a moment he couldn’t breathe. The choice had been made for him. He couldn’t stall, couldn’t hope to charm or threaten his way out of this. He’d have to break the pentagram and deal with the consequences. If he stayed, he was dead. If he managed to destroy the pentagram? Only 90% chances of certain destruction. He’d take it. He was an optimist like that.

Wasting no time, he closed his eyes and gathered all his magic. He focused on every tendril, every atom and fiber of his being that possessed even the slightest bit of spark. He willed it to break, to burst, to bleed it all to hell and leave nothing but him behind. A breath later, he unleashed everything he had, blue fire and smoke filling the air and engulfing everything on sight. The blast that followed was so powerful that it knocked everyone to the ground, Magnus included. 

_ I did it, _ he thought wildly, but had no time to celebrate. Now came the truly tricky part: surviving the aftermath. Luckily, there was no immediate threat apart from his own fast decaying body. He couldn't move, could barely let air through his lungs, yet he could tell everyone else in the room was dead. _ Good_. 

He tried to assess his own injuries, sense what needed immediate attention, but the pain was too excruciating and he could already feel himself begin to lose consciousness. For one desperate second, he actually considered going to Raphael and asking to be healed. Then he hated himself for being selfish, for wanting the only thing his friend could not be asked to do since the day they'd met. Since the fall.

No. He needed to teleport to the loft.

He needed to—

He needed—

With one last glimmer of magic, he teleported. 

Then everything went black.

*

Magnus woke and immediately wished he hadn't. The pain was all-encompassing. He could smell the stench of his own scorched flesh and felt the stupid impulse to check if he was somehow on fire. A part of him wanted to be proud of himself for escaping the way he had, but the realistic side of him knew it would be a short-lived victory unless he managed to miraculously stitch himself back together. He'd pat himself on the back when he was no longer dying. _ If _ he didn’t die. 

For all that he was conscious, however, his body didn't seem inclined to move at all, and his magic was nowhere to be found. He could feel the floor under his fingertips, yet not much beyond that registered. He tried to breathe in deeply, chose to focus on the monumental task of opening his eyes, but he didn't quite succeed at either. Despair was taking over his lungs and throat when he realized he could feel an odd sort of pressure on his face. He switched his focus to that instead and managed to make out a voice. 

"Magnus," the voice whispered. "I need you awake for this.” It sounded a lot like Alexander. Magnus was probably having a pain-induced hallucination. Fun.

“Please, wake up,” it went on, and he couldn't help but be a little impressed at the accuracy of his own delusion. The tone was just right. 

He then wondered if he’d actually managed to conjure up a full-body hallucination and, with an inexplicable burst of energy, he forced his eyes open. “Ah,” he managed, Alexander’s hazel eyes meeting his at once. Magnus offered a fleeting smile. 

"Hey,” he whispered. “You're going to be okay." He licked his lips, took a deep breath before saying, "I think I can heal you, but you need to actively take my strength. I already tried everything else I could think of." Apparently, the hallucination didn't _ know _ that it was a hallucination. 

“Not real,” Magnus rasped out.

“What?” He squinted, then shook his head. “Nevermind. Don’t talk. Just take what you need.” The pressure on his face receded, and Magnus realized Alec had been cradling it in his hands. Before he could react to that piece of information, Alec’s hands were on his. “Come on. Take it.”

_ Wait a minute. Hallucinations aren’t corporeal. _“Angel?” Was it actually him?

“Yes.” He frowned. “It’s me. It’s Alec.” _ Oh. _ But then… he couldn’t be healed. Not by him.

"Can't." He wanted to shake his head but couldn’t spare the energy. "Heal demon? Bad. Trouble." That's why he hadn't even considered going to him. Couldn't even ask his only two capable friends to help him; one because he'd fallen, one because he hadn't.

"What? I don’t care about that,” he protested, hurried and slightly offended. 

"You do." Because of course he did. He was an _ angel_. Magnus was a _ demon._

"I'm an angel meant to protect, Magnus. They can't fault me for that."

"Not meant to protect _ me_," he countered. 

"That's for me to decide." His eyes bore into Magnus’. "Now stop arguing with me and heal. If it makes you feel better, we can say I traded my strength for intel. I don't care."

"But—" He had to cut himself off to cough what was most certainly blood. He kept his eyes fixed on Alec, forced himself not to look down at his own body. The pain and smell painted enough of a picture for him.

"I will never forgive you if you don't," he threatened, and the way his voice broke at the end drove home that he was serious.

"’kay," he mumbled, then repeated, "Okay."

He tentatively reached for the angel's magic, which started flowing so willingly that it made him slightly dizzy. After what could have been a second or an hour, but was probably closer to a minute, Alexander’s eyes went bright and gold. As Magnus’ body began to finally put itself back together and the pain became more bearable and less blinding, he suddenly noted that the angelic rune on his neck was also glowing. That didn't normally happen when angels performed regular miracles, not that Magnus had seen. Only steles could do that.

"Why are you glowing? Are you okay?" He made himself reduce the flow of magic he welcomed, lest his donor be too honorable to say anything if he was being drained.

"It's fine." He nodded, although he sounded out of breath, and Magnus could now see that the grey shirt he was wearing looked damp. "We can worry about that later."

"That's not reassuring, Alexander!" He tried to let go of his hands, but Alec held on.

"It's nothing bad," he promised. "It's an angel thing. Rare. I'll explain later." He squeezed gently. "Come on."

"I'm not dying anymore. That's enough." He’d probably have to sleep for a decade, but he’d be fine, all things considered.

"_That's _ your standard?! Not dying?!" He sounded a little hysterical. "I'll tell you when to stop. I'm an angel, not a martyr."

"But I'm fine," Magnus protested.

"I'm the one looking at you right now, and I can tell you that you are _ not _ fine.”

"How dare you, I'm exquisite," he teased, trying to ease the tension that was coming off him in waves, and it granted him a snort. “Okay, okay. If you insist.”

As the healing resumed, Magnus let his eyes flutter shut for a moment. He concentrated on fixing the most damaged parts of himself—at least the ones that magic could hope to heal—and couldn’t help but marvel at how different Alec’s power felt from his own. It was hard to explain; there was an undercurrent of liquid sweetness, like drinking the purest honey, but also a crackling electricity, a fire that didn’t burn but still licked wounds and seared them into gentle scars. He briefly wondered if all angels felt like that, then realized he didn’t care. There was only one who mattered, and he was right there.

“How are you feeling?” Alec whispered, and Magnus let his eyes open once more.

“Alive,” he said simply, then felt the need to clarify. “I’m good. No real pain, I think. Just sore and utterly drained. But not in the fun way, sadly.”

“Not in the—” He shook his head and blushed all the way to his ears. “Unbelievable.” He let go of his hands slowly, almost reluctantly, as if there were residual magic keeping them together. Magnus wished that were true, if only to have an excuse to make him stay. But no, that was selfish thinking, and he’d never want Alec to do anything out of force or obligation. He already had a hard time believing Alec willingly spent time with him, so he certainly didn’t need circumstance to feed those flames of self-doubt. 

After being quiet for a bit too long, he said, “Thank you. Really. I… I’m not sure I would have made it otherwise.”

Alec’s face did something complicated that, in his rather poor state, Magnus couldn’t hope to decipher. “You wouldn’t have.” It wasn’t arrogant or cocky or self-important. It was a fact.

“It’s going to take more than that to get rid of me, angel. Sorry to disappoint.”

“I _ saved _ you,” he pointed out, clearly amused. 

“Bragging already?”

“What? I—”

But whatever he was going to say was left forgotten, because right by the liquor cabinet suddenly stood a figure that could not be ignored.


	5. The Fool

For a moment the silence was almost oppressive; Alec wasn't sure if night had fallen or the demon had somehow scared daylight away. "Get away from him," the newcomer hissed, his voice lightning on water, and Alec immediately went into defence mode. 

Before he'd done more than get between Magnus and the intruder, however, Magnus sat up and spoke, "Raphael, dear, please don't scare my savior away."

"An _angel_ saved you," his tone dripped distaste and disbelief. As he drew nearer, his eyes zeroed in on Alec. "_You_ saved him?" He accused rather than asked.

"I healed him," he said evenly. "Why didn't you?"

"What did you say?" The words were so full of wrath that Alec thought he'd just unknowingly signed his death sentence. He stood up straight, readying for the fight he read in the demon's face.

"Nothing!" Magnus stood up and pushed Alec behind himself, the shielding now reversed. "He didn't mean it like that. He's tired and not thinking straight." Alec kept his eyes fixed on Raphael but felt Magnus' back against his front like a brand on his chest. Who knew physical contact could impair concentration so easily?_ Better take a step back, just in case. _ He needed to be alert. “Probably didn’t realize who you are, either. Right, Alexander?” 

Only then did it hit him: _ Raphael. _He’d insulted the former most respected healer in the entire universe. “Sorry." 

“Whatever.” Raphael crossed his arms in front of himself, the lines of his charcoal suit as sharp as those of his face. “Magnus, why the hell did you go to someone like him for help?" He bared his abnormally sharp teeth, not even bothering to look in Alec's direction. "It’ll cost you more than it’s worth. You know that.”

“I’m right here,” Alec felt the need to point out, belatedly realizing that he should stop antagonizing such a powerful demon.

“Angel, be quiet,” Magnus admonished, blindly reaching backwards and hitting him on the hand, only to later keep it there on top of his. In case he spoke again, Alec guessed, or to deter him from getting his bow. Yet he couldn’t help the way his own gaze travelled downwards and lingered on those rings against his skin, the current conversation momentarily forgotten. The close call was clearly affecting him in unexpected ways. “—didn’t go to him. He came to me. Not that I had much choice, Raphael. I was flirting with death pretty heavily when he showed up.”

“What did you offer him? What did he ask for?” He demanded, and Alec wondered how they knew each other; he could sense the carefully cloaked care coming from him, was reminded once more of what Magnus had said about demons and feelings.

“Nothing,” Magnus spoke softly. “He’s my friend.” Alec’s eyes widened at the word, anxiety and awe warring in his gut. “He wanted to help.”

“Friend,” Raphael parroted, only to go very quiet and still. Solely his eyes moved, his dark gaze dancing between them as if they were a puzzle to be solved. Alec couldn’t entirely fault him. Their acquaintanceship —friendship?— didn’t make sense to him either. 

Whatever explanation Raphael had been looking for, he seemed to find quickly enough. His face contorted and darkened further. "Magnus, you absolute fool."

"It's not like that," Magnus denied, but the meaning was lost on Alec. Their friendship wasn't the smartest of choices, but surely it couldn't be _ that _ bad?

"The hell it isn't," he snapped. "I don't know how you got yourself... tangled in angelic business, but you're an idiot if you think this is going to end well."

"He did just save my life."

"Then kick him out before he has time to destroy it." Alec had to bite his tongue at that. Like he would ever have the will, or the power, to do such thing.

"I'm telling you that's not what this is." 

"I'd always known you were a fool. I just underestimated the extent of your stupidity.” He took a deep breath, then shook his head. “Just be careful.”

“Aren’t I always?” The teasing fell a little flat; as if Magnus had reservations about Alec too. 

Tired of being silent, Alec stepped in, “Instead of arguing about me, why don't you try to track whoever did this to him?” Because surely he'd been attacked, even if Alec couldn't wrap his head around why.

Raphael pursed his lips, directed his answer only at Magnus. “I wanted to make sure you were okay first. I felt your pain when it happened, came as soon as I could, but...”

“I know. No explanation necessary.” Magnus waved him off. “I'm okay.”

“What about your attackers?” Alec asked, half-turning to look at Magnus. It wouldn't do to write them off if they were holding some sort of grudge or vendetta against him.

“You don't have to worry about that.” The evasive tone made Alec frown.

“Why not?”

"They're not a threat," he answered, voice still off.

"Ah, pero por supuesto,” Raphael smirked, understanding at once. “Son los vivos los que traen problemas, no los muertos." 

“You _ killed _ them?” Alec blinked, turning sharply to seek Magnus' eyes.

"Almost burned myself alive in the process,” he murmured, avoiding his gaze.

“Wait. So those injuries…?” 

“Self-inflicted. It was the only way to escape,” he explained. “I was pretty much dead either way. Might as well take them down with me.” He gave a bitter smile. 

“Oh. I—”

“I don’t want to be here anymore.” Raphael interrupted, running a hand over his face. “You’re okay, at least physically if clearly not mentally, so I’m going to forget this ever happened and leave.” 

"Thank you for coming, Raphael." The words were simple, customary, yet Magnus' gratitude was nothing but heartfelt.

"Next time, come to me." He shifted, the first clear sign of discomfort Alec had sensed from him. "I would have helped you."

"I know." He swallowed, some rare brand of sorrow seeming to take over. "And I would have never forgiven myself for asking."

Raphael looked down, searching for words that wouldn't come. Eventually, he spoke through gritted teeth, "It's not even a question. Not when it's you."

Magnus hesitated, as if about to argue, but instead repeated, "Thank you." This time, all Alec heard was _ love. _ Whoever this man was, whatever their shared past and history, Magnus _ loved _ him. And he was clearly loved in kind.

Alec's thoughts were interrupted when Raphael spared him one last poisonous look. “I don’t know what you’re playing at, but I don’t trust you.” 

Before he could even begin to think of an answer, Raphael turned into a bat and flew away.

Demons truly had a flair for the dramatic.

“For an angel, you’re really good at almost letting hell break loose,” Magnus commented as he turned around to face him, his hand finally leaving Alec’s. He didn’t look upset, but he did seem a bit off. “If you ever run into Raphael again, please refrain from talking about healing. It’s… not his favorite topic.”

“Yeah,” he agreed absently, mind still reeling. "A friend of yours?" It tasted like an understatement.

"Raphael is…" He cocked his head. "He's family. He may not share my blood, but he's a son to me."

"Oh. So you've known each for a long time?"

"Yes. After he fell, he—" He shook his head. "Actually, no. I don't think he'd appreciate us talking about it," he spoke with finality.

"That's okay. I understand." And he did. Falling was… it just _ was. _No words needed. Even thinking about it for too long made him anxious.

After a lingering silence, he said, "Well, it's certainly been an eventful day." And there was that air of discomfort again. He'd never heard Magnus sound that way before, but he wished he could make it disappear.

“How are you feeling?” He shivered, unable to stop himself from remembering how he’d found him, so still and broken that he’d thought he’d been too late. “You probably shouldn’t be standing. Why don’t you go lie down? I can make dinner.” He hadn't planned on staying, because there had been no plan at all other than keeping him alive, but suddenly he couldn't bear the thought of leaving.

“What?” The confused frown on Magnus’ face threw Alec for a moment. “I already said I’m fine. You can… you can go now.” And he turned away, apparently no longer caring about Alec’s presence. 

The dismissal hit him harder than he could have anticipated. Of course he didn’t want him there. In his house and his kitchen and his space. It was one thing for Magnus to go to the bookstore, or for them to meet somewhere neutral, but being in his home? Making dinner? He’d miscalculated. Overstepped.

“But you have no magic,” he pleaded. “You’re vulnerable.” _ Ask me to stay. _

“I…” Magnus stopped in front of the liquor cabinet, his back stiff and his hands hesitant. “It’s not your obligation to help me.”

“I know.” Of course he knew that.

“Then why…?”

“Did you mean what you said?”

“About?” He sounded confused by the non sequitur.

“Us. About us being… friends.” 

“That feels like a trick question.” Magnus turned around and crossed his arms, still not really looking at him.

“I don’t see how.”

“You won’t like my answer either way.” He licked his lips. “Either I say no and you’re upset because I’m a liar, or I say yes and you’re offended because I'm implying you'd befriend a _ demon." _

"Fine. Don't answer." Had he lied? "If you want me to go, I'll go.”

"I didn't say that." He bit his lip, as if he hadn't meant to speak at all.

"Actually, you did."

"I just said you _ could _ go," Magnus mumbled as he reached absently to mess with his earring.

"Do you—?" He cut himself off, took a deep breath. "Do you want me to stay?"

"I don't _ want _ anything," he scoffed, and Alec was baffled by the bitter edge to his tone.

"What's up with you?" He shook his head, threw his hands in the air in frustration. "Why can't you answer one simple question? I'm only trying to help."

"And why, exactly, are you doing that?"

"What?"

"Why are you helping me?"

"Why wouldn't I?"

"Because I'm a demon!"

“Yes, you are." He was beginning to lose his patience; he couldn’t remember that ever happening before. "You’re acting like I don't know that. Like it's some new revelation that’s going to make me run away in horror or something.” He took a step in Magnus' direction, stopped when he saw him recoil. He told himself it didn't hurt. "I've always known what you are, just like you've always known what I am."

"You don't know the first thing about me, angel," he spat, the last word echoing like a curse.

"I—"

"But I know you. All of you," his voice was lower now, darker. "Self-congratulatory snobs with a savior complex."

"You don't mean that," he whispered. "Why are you—?"

“I just told you I _ killed _ people, Alexander." He stormed towards him, the space crackling and contracting around them with each step.

_ Oh. _So that was the real problem. “You didn't have a choice.” 

“I did. I could have died and let them go.”

“That's no choice at all and you know it.”

“I _ wanted _ to hurt them.” He locked eyes with him. "Even before I'd decided to escape, I wanted them dead.

“ I thought you didn't want anything.”

“Don't. Don't change the subject." He grabbed Alec's face in both hands. "This is who I am. Do you understand?" 

"I do." And he did. He _ did. _But it was hard to articulate anything at all while being held so tightly, so closely, so fully.

"I don't think—"

"I'm not stupid, Magnus." He gulped, summoned courage from within and placed his hands on top of Magnus'. He didn't let himself linger, gently peeling them off his face as he went on, "I never thought you were a saint. But… would you have killed them, if they hadn't forced your hand?"

"Does it matter? I did it. They're dead."

"It matters." He squeezed his hands once before letting go completely.

"No." He deflated. "I would have wanted to, but no." He thought the argument had finally come to an end, but Magnus persisted, "Once upon a time, though, I would have—"

"Stop," he snapped. "You know what?" He inhaled deeply, reminded himself he wasn't angry but exhausted. "I'm not doing this. I don't know why, but you're trying to push me away and I'm not going to let you. Wards aside, you're currently powerless. You almost _ died. _I'm staying."

"You don't have to—"

"I _ want _ to."

"Fine." He rolled his eyes, but something within him seemed to genuinely uncoil and relax. His expression settled, as if he’d silently vowed to go back to his usual self.

"Fine," Alec echoed. "Now go lie down while I make you dinner."

"I don't have any food."

"I'll miracle something, then." He may not have been overflowing with magic after the healing, but he definitely had enough for a meal. "Now please, Magnus. Relax. I don't even know how you're standing here talking to me."

"Stubbornness, probably."

"Now that I can believe." He couldn't help a fond smile. "Shower, bed. Go. I'll give you ten minutes."

"Bossy," he murmured, more appreciation than complaint. "A man could get used to that," he teased, leaving before Alec even had the opportunity to blush.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> spanish translation: "Ah, but of course. It is the living that bring trouble, not the dead."


	6. Divine Law

Magnus padded over to his bedroom and stripped off carelessly, leaving a trail of torn and scorched clothes all the way to the bathroom. He'd weep over the loss of those glorious pants once he could summon the energy to do and feel non-essential things again. 

He let the warm water do its own magic, tried to dwell on nothing but the sensation of soap against his healed skin and the smell of sandalwood in the air. He really couldn't afford to let his thoughts stray into dangerous territory, especially not when that territory seemed vast enough to get lost in for hours. _ Damn you, Raphael. _

One deep breath. Water on skin and soap on fading scars. Sandalwood. Repeat. Wash away the phantom touch of blue flames kissing his skin into oblivion. Colder water. The scent of scorched bodies at his feet around a pentagram. Other bodies, once people, dead by his hand yesterday or a century ago. Deserved it. Still dead. Burning. Cold water was never cold enough. Always burning. Like Raphael. Burning and falling. Falling and burning. And pain. Looming, lingering, lasting. Sandalwood. Freezing water. Footsteps? The odd feeling of someone new in his apartment. A foe. A friend. A fool. At least one. Maybe all.

"Magnus!" The fool spoke, and Magnus realized that there was an insistent pounding on the door. "Magnus, are you okay?"

"F-fine!" He forced out, apparently not fine at all. Not burning, but not fine. "A minute!"

Alexander shouldn't have stayed. He'd _ see _ him. See _ him. _ He'd already seen more than he was supposed to. Magnus had cracked and let loose some of the ugliness; it couldn't be contained, sometimes. There was so much of it that it just oozed and spilled and stained everything around him. What was Magnus doing? With an _ angel_, of all creatures. To what end? His own. Nobody else's. Not Alec's, not the world's, just his. 

His head hurt.

He stepped out of the shower, blindly reaching for his cobalt pajamas and avoiding the mirror altogether. Alexander thought he knew him, but he was wrong. He'd see. Tonight, or tomorrow, or ten years from now. He'd see him and hate him and leave.

_ Shut up. Shut up shut up shut up. _He couldn't think about that, not when he was only a few feet away. No. He had to contain it. He'd put a lid on it and keep it at bay until he could properly revisit how he felt. 

Ideally, never.

He trudged out of the bathroom and found Alexander sitting at the foot of the bed, a silver tray full of food in front of him. Magnus made his way to the bed, got under the heavy covers and sat cross-legged without a word.

"Sorry I knocked. I got worried when you didn't come out after twenty minutes." 

"Lost track of time," he mumbled. And twenty minutes wasn't that long, really. Alexander was probably one of those who took military showers instead of savoring the opportunity for relaxation. Terrible.

He hummed, pointed at the food between them and said, "Hope this is okay. I forgot to ask what you wanted."

"It's fine," he answered automatically. When he actually paid attention to the food, however, he had to ask, "Is this… from the Ethiopian place I told you about?" How did he remember? _ Why? _

"Yeah," Alec looked away, scratched his neck, cleared his throat. "Thought it would be a safe bet."

"Definitely." He tentatively took the closest box and opened it. _ Nice. _ He hadn’t had kitfo in a while. "But I never told you the name."

"Ethiopian isn't _ that _ popular in this neighborhood, Magnus. I looked for the closest restaurant to Herondale Palace."

"Herondale…?"

"That place where we met on assignment and you wanted to ditch work to eat Ethiopian instead."

"Ah, yes. My poor attempt at trying to get you to have lunch with me," he joked, perhaps too earnestly. "If I'd known almost dying was all it took, I'd have done it a lot sooner." He cocked his head in acquiescence. "Although you did suggest coffee, eventually."

"You just wanted to skip work back then," he protested weakly.

"And eat Ethiopian with a dashing angel, obviously." _ Put the lid back on, Magnus. _

"Shut up." He caught a hint of a smile and an eyeroll before Alec busied himself with his tibs, which looked absolutely delicious. 

"Only because you asked so nicely."

They both went quiet then, the white noise of city life coming to the foreground in a pleasant and oddly calming way. Whatever tension had been there before the shower was now gone, and all that was left was a growing sense of warmth. Magnus focused on savoring the food, still a bit in awe at the thought of Alec paying enough attention to remember what he liked.

The peace was eventually disturbed by a flaming message swishing past Alec just as a tiny bottle with a yellow liquid manifested on the tray.

"What is that?" Alec asked in a tone that implied he was ready to blast the bottle to hell and track whoever had sent it.

"No danger," he appeased. He knew their magic enough to at least be sure of that. He took the note and read the words twice, allowing himself to be comforted by their worry.

_ Heard what happened. Hope you're well. If you need anything, we're a message away. _

_ \- C & R _

_ PS: Drink up! It'll help. _

Of course Ragnor and Catarina had found out; nothing was kept quiet for long in the warlock and demonic channels, and certainly not when important people were involved.

"Everything okay?" Alec was still eyeing the bottle as if it were a grenade.

"Absolutely." He smiled. "Just two friends checking up on me." He grabbed the bottle and shook it a bit, the liquid mellow and inviting. "To regain my strength faster."

"But how did they know? Are you connected to other demons or something?" He frowned as he polished off what was left of his dish.

"Only to Raphael, and that was a deliberate choice from both of us. But warlocks are resourceful. They have plenty of ways to keep themselves updated." He opened the bottle and downed it in one go. “And they love gossip almost as much as they love herbs.”

"Oh. I hadn’t thought of that.” He scratched at his neck rune, and Magnus was reminded of something he'd been meaning to ask.

"How did _ you _ know I needed help?"

"I sensed it," he mumbled, eyes fixed on his empty plate.

"So you can sense whenever someone needs help? Sounds like a recipe for madness."

"No. Not just anyone." He hesitated. "Honestly, I don't know why I can sense you at all. I don't think I should be able to." _Don’t overthink it._

"Maybe it has something to do with… your glowing thing that I still don't understand." He was frankly offended by his own ignorance, even if irrationally so. To have lived so much yet still somehow know so little about certain things was downright upsetting.

"It doesn't. That's… you can't tell anyone about that." Magnus was taken aback by the urgency in his voice.

"Of course I won't," he placated. "But what is it? I've never seen anything like that, and I've been around for a very long time." He absent-mindedly grabbed at his sheets, unconsciously seeking comfort in the smooth fabric against his skin.

"It's rare." Alec's eyes were far away, as if revisiting an old memory. "I thought it was a myth, something said to give us strength in times of adversity and renew our faith in the plan."

"Okay?" That was… awfully vague.

"It's probably not even true," he warned. "But it's said that, after too many losses, Raziel asked God to share some of her powers to battle evil and defend humanity. God refused, said she'd created us just the way it had been planned, but Raziel managed to find compromise. God wouldn't give her power freely to us, but it could be earned." He cleared his throat and enunciated, "_If thou truly righteous be, and seek not glory but God's will fulfilled, then blessed and bathed in gold find her essence onto thee bestowed." _

"So you think you accidentally summoned God's _ will_?" He couldn't help the scandalized tone.

"I'm not saying anything. That's just what all angels are told about what you saw. It's kept very secret…" He scratched his neck again. "We're discouraged from talking about it, actually."

"_Why? _ Having access to God's power sounds exactly like the sort of thing angels would brag about." As far as Magnus had seen, humility was usually preached rather than practiced. 

"Because it's…" Alec seemed torn. He licked his lips, looked down at his hands which almost disappeared under a pillow he was gripping tightly, and took a deep breath before explaining, "Most high ranking angels believe that's how Heaven will triumph over Hell the day Armageddon comes. The righteous will summon God's will and purge all demonic trace from the universe."

"I see." Magnus felt a little sick. The end of time had never been a topic he liked to discuss, and talking about it with an angel didn’t exactly make him feel better. "And what do you think?"

"At first I agreed," he conceded. "But now… I don't see how God would consider righteous those who'd only summon her power to massacre fallen angels."

"That's… very insightful of you."

He looked up, stared into Magnus' eyes, "But the legends must be wrong. I'm not… There was nothing righteous about what I did."

"No?" He tilted his head, thought about arguing the point, but ended up saying, "Who are we to say what's righteous?" Moral debates were exhausting on a regular day; they felt impossible on a day like this. "Let's avoid heavy conversation, shall we? I've filled my life crisis quota for the day."

"Of course."

"And thank you." He let his hand find Alec's, let it squeeze lightly before retreating. "Thank you for trusting me about the marks. I won't tell a soul."

Alec nodded and offered a tentative smile in return. “Thanks.”

Satisfied but self-indulgent, they moved on to dessert, keeping things light and easy even if the night felt anything but. Magnus couldn't be bothered to worry about anything beyond the sweet flavour of chocolate melting in his mouth. Whatever else the world wanted to throw at him, whatever life-altering crisis the universe wanted to trip him up with, it could wait. 

As Alec left to put the leftovers away, the weight of the food settled and Magnus knew that every inch of his body was begging for sleep. He tried to fight it, wanted to be in Alexander's company for a bit longer, but that particular battle could not be won. He drifted, his mind miraculously melting away all worries and leaving nothing but warmth and contentment behind.

*

Magnus slept so soundly that waking up felt like being reborn. Whatever Catarina had given him, it had certainly done its job sevenfold. He allowed himself to feel the warm friction of sheets on skin and revel in the pleasure of shedding layer upon layer of exhaustion. He stretched without bothering to sit up yet, turned slowly as he opened his eyes only to find the most unfathomable of scenes before him.

Submerged in a peaceful sleep, Alexander lay before him, his beautiful black hair contrasting with Magnus' golden sheets like they were made for each other. Like an angel had chosen to dream and sleep and breathe beside Magnus for eternity. _ Not for eternity. For a night. Only a night. _

For the first time since they'd met, Magnus welcomed a thought he wasn't allowed to have: of finding out just how many runes Alexander had, and where they were, and where they weren’t. Before, it had been a fleeting thought, something easily pushed aside. Now? It was maddening and all-consuming and, apparently, unstoppable. Magnus' hands on his skin, his tongue trailing prayers down his spine, blunt nails carving psalms into his bones. Lips on lips on teeth on heart on soul. God, he wanted to _ wreck _ him. Tear him apart and put him back together. He wanted to pin him down and make him beg, worship his flesh until vessels were no more, only souls reaching out. 

He wanted and he wanted and he wanted and that was the biggest problem of all. He wasn't allowed to want. Wanting was dangerous when you knew you could never be satisfied. And he'd never be. How could he? _ Look at him_, his mind screamed, although he remained motionless. _ Look at him, and look at you. _

No. 

Wanting had never been an option. He couldn't kill it, but he'd bury the want so deep it wouldn't breathe. Let it wither and decay and—

His silent rant was interrupted by Alexander gasping so painfully Magnus actually jumped in the bed.

"What is it? What's wrong?" He asked in what he hoped was the tone of a man who had not been losing his mind seconds before.

"I—" He grabbed at his chest, sat up and ran his hands over his face. "It's my family."

"Your family?" He thought Alec didn't get along with other angels; it was an odd term to use. "Something wrong in Heaven?" He frowned. Maybe it was those attacks again.

"Not them." He shook his head. "_My _family. My assignment."

"Are they in danger? What can we do?"

Alec looked down, absolutely destroyed. "There's nothing to be done," he whispered. "I tried… I tried to help him, but he wouldn't be swayed. I can't interfere with their will, only guide them." 

"Him? Who?" He scoured his brain for every bit of information he had let slip about his orders, then was struck by a thought. "Alec, are you a guardian angel?"

"Yes," he said brokenly. "I'm sorry, Magnus. I… I have to go." He looked up, genuine regret on his face. "I—"

"Say no more," he forced a smile. "Go be with them. You've already done more than I can repay. Just… let me know if there's anything I can do."

"Thank you." And then he was gone.

*

Magnus was beginning to think that the _ no rest for the wicked _thing applied to him too well. Only three days into his recovery, no word from Alec, and now an official call from downstairs? Where did a demon have to go to find some peace and quiet?

He plastered a smile on his face, ready to charm his way out of trouble like he usually did, and went past the splintered doors. He didn't even have time to dwell on the smell, couldn't even let his eyes vaguely survey the room, before he felt all the air escape him. _No._

"Hello, my son," Asmodeus greeted, his cat eyes a permanent reminder not only of Magnus' origins but his legacy.

"Father." His smile faltered and turned into a grimace. So he’d been tricked. They’d probably thought he wouldn’t show if called from Edom—and they probably weren’t wrong. "To what do I owe the pleasure of your summoning?" He had a million possibilities running through his head, and none of them ended well for him.

"I trust you've recovered from your… unfortunate encounter with those warlocks?" It was hard to tell whether it was a genuine question or not, but it didn’t matter either way.

"Almost," he lied. He was nowhere near his usual self yet, but any less than almost would imply more weakness than he could afford to show. "Why?" 

"And I don't suppose you've reconsidered my offer?"

Dread and guilt and a thousand more emotions welled up, but he breathed in deeply and merely said, "My answer hasn't changed."

"Very well." His sudden smirk chilled Magnus to his core. It was _ bad_. "Let me tell you about your new assignment."

It wasn't bad.

It was worse.

It was the beginning of the end. 


	7. Revelation

Alec wasn't going to feel sorry for asking for advice, no matter how many angels might have currently been frowning upstairs. Sometimes one just needed a second opinion, traditions be damned.

"It really sounds like you did everything you could." Lydia sighed as she leaned against the counter. "I wish I had more comforting words to offer, but I don't think anyone is to blame but Robert Lightwood himself." She adjusted the marble pencil holder so it stood perfectly parallel to the white notebook. "You certainly won't be reprimanded for it."

"I don't care about that." The thought hadn't even occurred to him. "But how do I keep—," he cut himself off, exasperated, then continued, "How do I protect him after something like this?"

"Their actions don't change anything for us, Lightwood. You know that." She crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow at him. "We serve our kin regardless of faith or sin."

"I _ know_," he said, because of course he knew. He'd been told that so early into his training that it might as well have been his first lesson. "But it's one thing to know, _ theoretically_, that one might be assigned to guard bad people. It's different to witness it and have to act like nothing's changed, like one part of my assignment isn't completely destroying the other one. How do you deal with that?"

"You stop making it personal." Her tone was a bit gentler; she knew he wouldn't like the answer. "This is your job. Your duty. Remove all feelings from the equation and you'll do just fine. Again, you know this as well as I do." 

But being a guardian wasn't a science, and it most certainly wasn't an experiment one was allowed to do over or throw away after it went south. At least not for Alec. "But—"

Before he had a chance to protest, Magnus materialized right in front of them in a blur of specks of gold. 

"Apologies for the abrupt entrance." He casually adjusted the hem of his left sleeve and fixed his aubergine tie. It was hard to believe that only a few days before he'd been at death's door.

"I can explain—" Alec turned to Lydia, racking his brain for a plausible excuse.

"No need," Lydia brushed him off with the barest hint of a smile. "You definitely know how to pick your demons. Magnus Bane?" She directed a nod his way while Alec's mind reeled. "I'm Branwell."

"A Branwell!" He sounded genuinely pleased, which only confused Alec further. Didn't Magnus hate angels on principle? "It's been decades."

Lydia must have sensed his confusion, because she elaborated, "My ancestors worked with Magnus, once upon a time. One of those rare cases when we're allowed to mix." She looked Alec up and down, an indecipherable glint in her eyes. "Not that you two seem to care about rules when it comes to company."

She _ knew. _Perhaps not everything, no, but clearly enough. Shit."I—" 

She put up a hand, effectively shutting him up. "Breathe, Lightwood. As long as it doesn't affect my assignment, or yours for that matter, then it's none of my business. Heaven won't be hearing anything from me."

"Hell, she sounds like you," Magnus pointed out, amused. Then he sobered and added, "Speaking of snakes and ladders, I don't mean to be rude, but this isn't a social visit. And it's rather urgent, I'm afraid."

"Oh, of course. I'll leave you to it." She straightened and nodded once. "Nice to finally meet you, Magnus. Lightwood, call me if you need me." And then she vanished, the faint smell of verbena the only sign that she'd been there at all.

"What's wrong?" Alec frowned. He'd sensed some distress a few hours ago, but since it hadn't felt life-threatening he hadn't been worried.

"Before we get into that..." Magnus stared at his shoes while he toyed with a ring on his right hand. "How are you?"

"Fine," he answered automatically.

"No." He shook his head as he walked the two steps that separated them. "I'm serious. The last time I saw you, you were…" He bit his lip, clearly searching for a polite way to speak his mind.

"A mess?" He supplied.

"Distressed," he corrected with a tilt of his head. His hands touched Alec's forearms for a moment. "I'd never seen you like that before." 

“To be fair, I’d never been in that situation before.” 

“I don’t suppose you’d let me intervene?” He tried, knowing the answer before Alec had even opened his mouth. “No. Of course not. Free will and all that jazz. Forget I asked.”

“Thank you for offering, though.” It wasn’t a minor thing, to have a demon offer to perform miracles so casually. “But the point isn’t to force him to change. _ I _am the one who has to adapt to the situation.”

“And how are you planning to do that, exactly?”

“That's why I was talking to Lydia, actually. Wanted another guardian's perspective."

"Did it help? She seemed nice."

"Told me what I didn't want to hear, but I know she's right." He wished he could put the incident behind him as easily as she'd made it sound, but he knew the odds of that happening were slim. He didn’t have it in him to compartmentalize at will; yet another skill he seemed to lack as an angel. "But enough about that.” He cleared his throat, eager to leave his current predicament behind. “You said you were here about something urgent?"

"I know the timing sucks, and normally I'd delay the news for when you're not… preoccupied, but the less I wait, the better."

"Okay." He was stalling, Alec could tell. Beating around the bush seemed odd, considering the apparent severity of the matter. "Magnus, what is it?"

"We need to go somewhere more private." He eyed their surroundings meaningfully, as if someone might have been hiding behind the science fiction section. “And you might want to sit down for this.”

Was it about the healing? The glowing marks? Had hell found out and punished Magnus for receiving help from an angel?

He swallowed, trying to calm his racing heart as he said, "Follow me." 

*

"We should be safe here." He opened the plain white door and moved aside to let him into his apartment.

"This is…" Magnus looked around, assessing every bit of space that met the eye, and Alec wondered what was going through his mind. It was nothing extravagant, no ornate statues or Persian rugs, but he personally found it to be a comfortable and practical space. High ceilings, a spacious open kitchen and living room, and the biggest bookcase Alec could fit. White on black on blue on grey. "You have a lovely home, Alexander." 

"Thank you." He scratched the back of his neck, inordinately pleased at the compliment. "Should I get us coffee?"

"Let me." Magnus lifted a delicate hand and soon enough the smell of freshly roasted coffee beans filled the air, along with more bagels than was probably called for. "Might as well have our last meal," he joked, but Alec heard the sour tone that echoed behind the words.

"_Magnus," _he said pointedly as he sat down and gestured for him to do the same. "Talk to me."

"There's no easy way to say this, so I'm just gonna go for it." He took a deep breath. "I've been assigned to relocate the antichrist."

The words sank in slowly, painless for a blissful instant, like a hand in hot water that took a moment too long to realize it was in danger. Then all at once the pain hit, white and angry and too late to avoid permanent damage.

"The antichrist." He echoed lamely, eyes going wide as the world shifted on its axis. "He's been born already?"

"Yes." He winced, the bagel in his hand forgotten halfway to his mouth. "He's almost twelve years old."

_ Twelve years old. _ "And you didn't think this information was relevant until now? All this time, you didn't think once to bring it up?" Alec frowned. That didn't sound like something Magnus would do, did it?

"I didn't _ know_, Alexander," he huffed. "I came to you as soon as I found out." Something akin to honey settled in Alec’s heart at those words. “Oh. Oh, I see.”

Magnus looked down at his bagel, took the smallest possible bite and chewed. Finally, he elaborated, "It's being kept _ very _ quiet to ensure things go smoothly. I only found out because I was assigned to the case, obviously."

"Oh." Apparently that was all his brain could currently come up with. "Sorry I assumed you’d kept it from me." Not that Magnus owed him anything, really, especially not where hell’s orders were concerned. It would have been unfair to hold it against him.

“Already forgotten.” He waved him off. Alec was positive that the stakes were too high to allow Magnus to conjure up the annoyance he would have felt under normal circumstances. After all, he tended to be a little touchy when Alec showed even the smallest hint of distrust.

Alec looked at his feet, his appetite all but gone and buried. "So what happens now?" He didn’t know why he had to ask. Perhaps he just needed to hear the words out loud. Like a verdict. A death sentence. Make it official.

Magnus put the bagel down slowly and met Alec’s gaze. “Armageddon.”

And there it was out in the open. _ Armageddon_. “I thought… I thought I’d have more time.” It didn’t seem fair. He’d finally been sent down to Earth only to witness its destruction? He felt like the butt of a particularly tasteless cosmic joke.

“Time for what?”

“I don’t know.” He shrugged, feeling stupid. “To serve. To protect. To _ live_.” He thought of the Lightwoods, of all the promising things that might have been in store, all the things that would be taken away and never experienced. Like a tree that died before ever blooming, or a rainbow that was washed away before anyone had the chance to see it. Although, if he really thought about it, they’d never had a future at all. He’d been assigned to a family destined to witness the Apocalypse. The future had been a false promise all along, and he’d been in turn destined for failure.

“—ander.” Magnus waved a frantic hand in front of him. “I don’t know where you went, but I need you here for this conversation.”

“Right.” He blinked, trying to pull himself together. He could dwell on everything he was bound to lose when he was no longer in Magnus' company.

"I didn't tell you this to burden you for no reason." He handed a bagel to Alec, then let his right hand hover over Alec's coffee as dim blue smoke restored it to an acceptable temperature. "I'm here because we need to find a way to prevent this. Together." He sounded resolute but also inexplicably tired; as if he'd already fought alone a thousand times in his mind, and he'd lost every single time.

"_We?" _ Alec echoed. "But this has nothing to do with me._Your _ side is to blame for this." Even as he spoke, Alec knew that it was a stupid thing to say. Just because he hadn’t started it didn’t mean he couldn’t at least try to end it. But was he even allowed to think that way? Wouldn’t he be going against the plan by meddling?

"I've told you before that hell and I don't usually see eye to eye. This is certainly one of those cases. I'm willing to try to fix it, but I don't…" He licked his lips. "I don't think I can pull this off on my own. _ That's why I'm here_." He repeated emphatically.

"I can't help you,” he mumbled, and Magnus’ head turned so quickly Alec feared he’d hurt himself. It dawned on him then that Magnus had probably expected some resistance but hadn't entertained the thought of outright refusal. “I mean, I’m not saying I like the idea of the Apocalypse happening in a year. I’m not even going to pretend that I do.”

“But?”

“But we've always known the day would come. Sooner or later, it was always going to be this way. Who are we to get in the way of God’s plan?"

"But your dear Almighty has _ war _ in mind, Alec. Do you really want that?" He eyed him warily. "Because even if heaven wins, there will be terrible losses." He looked around, gestured at the books so artfully classified and exhibited. "No more of that. No bookstore, no walks along the park, no coffee and bagels.” 

“Of course I don’t want a war.” He crossed his arms, then realized how defensive it made him look and uncrossed them again. “I just don’t know if stopping it is the right thing to do. I have to consider the big picture, regardless of how I personally feel about it. I can’t be selfish and mess up God’s plan just because I want to keep my job and have weekly lunches with a demon.”

Magnus’ face softened at that. “I know selfish thinking is more up my alley than it is yours, so think about it this way: Does humanity truly have to be the collateral damage of a stupid and selfish pissing contest between heaven and hell? To see whose wings are bigger and whose sword mightier?”

"It's more than that, Magnus," he argued. "I don't expect you, or me, to understand her reasoning, but surely there is an ultimate goal that we're missing. I'm a soldier meant to follow her lead, not question it." 

"Alexander." His voice was kinder than it had ever been before. "Darling, you're a good soldier, and I don't doubt that you'd serve bravely when the time came, but don't you think that perhaps _this _is God's plan?" He pointed at them both. "Isn't there even the slightest bit of hope that this is exactly what we're meant to be doing? Working together to stop a war rather than let it happen?"

"That sounds awfully like wishful thinking to me."

"And it certainly could be," he conceded. "But when I was dying, you saved me with powers you thought weren't even possible. Powers that, according to your sources, came from God herself. Her _ will_. And immediately after that I was assigned to look after the antichrist. I'm reluctant to believe in fate as easily as angels seem to do, Alec, but to call it a coincidence seems just as ludicrous. Maybe I was meant to receive this assignment and do something that mattered."

"If that's true, then you're the one destined to stop it, not me." How perfectly ironic yet fitting, that it should be a demon the one to save humankind.

"You're wrong." He shook his head. "I told you I can't do this alone. We're a team. There's no heaven and hell. There's just you and me."

"Why me? I'm only a guardian angel. I'm not powerful enough to be your ally. I may not have witnessed what you're capable of, but I can still sense it, you know? You'd be wasting your time with me." There was no point in being bitter about it; it was a matter of strategy. Alec had failed his family, so how could he ever hope to save the entire human race? It was hopeless. He'd only hold Magnus back.

"You're more powerful than you give yourself credit for." He rested a tentative hand on Alec's knee. "And I need more than an ally to do this. I need a friend. But if you really don't want to, then I guess—"

"I _ want _ to help," he blurted out, apparently making up his mind after all. He hoped with all his heart that it was the right thing to do. "I just don't think I'm the best choice."

"Well, you're _my _choice" he said simply. "And there's nothing better than that."

"Right." He couldn't fight off the beginning of a smile; what a foolish reaction to have in the midst of an apocalyptic discussion. But he shouldn’t have been surprised, not when the man in front of him had a talent for bringing out the more reckless side of Alec. "Let's do this."

"Wonderful.” He clapped twice, then intertwined his fingers as he said, “Step one: figure out what to do with the world’s most lethal time bomb.”

Alec only hoped they’d be able to defuse it in time.


End file.
